Listen
by emerald1198
Summary: Lost and on the edge of an alcoholic relapse, Fiona may have just hit her limits.  But there's one person who knows how she feels, and he's determined to make her listen before it's too late.  Fiona/Eli.  Friendship, nothing more.


**Hey, anyone reading. I've had this idea in my brain for awhile now. So, I decided to finally type it up. It revolves around Eli and Fiona's friendship (nothing more – sorry FionaxEli shippers)**

**If you like this, I have another one-shot of them called the "The Girl in the Painting." Check it out if you want to.**

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**Listen**

**-Fiona-**

Fiona Coyne sits on the first few cold and metal steps of her fire escape, clenching the spine of a glass bottle in her black, polished fingernails. Her vision is fogging, her mind intoxicated and spinning in a whirlwind of guilt and loneliness, but she can still make out the vague sunset somewhere far out on the horizon, casting glimmering rays over the tall skyscrapers of early morning Toronto.

And the scene is so surreal to her, because last night, she was sure that time would not keep going, that the sun and the moon would look down on this utterly pathetic excuse for a life and decide that she was better off just dwelling in this moment for the rest of time, watching glimpses of what might have been her future had she been the girl everyone assumed her to be.

Then again, maybe that has been Fiona's problem all along. Maybe Charlie is right. Maybe Fiona just stands still while life moves around her, and it's finally starting to become evident to her after denying it for so long. Holly J., Anya, Charlie – they all tried to tell her to start moving; they all tried to sling an arm around her and tug her along with them. But, in the end, no one can handle her weight for too long.

That's all she is. Deadweight that everyone eventually realizes is not worth the struggle.

The bottle is emptied to the last drop of the sparkling alcohol, but Fiona can't find it in herself to really feel guilty. Maybe it's just the drunken state she's in; maybe she will feel terrible when it finally passes over. But something tells her that she's done trying to pretend like she's the perfect girl that everyone seems to think she is. Even her therapist thinks she's getting remarkably stronger. But she's not fixed. Not now, not ever.

She has school today, she knows this, and she considers staying home in this position all day, once again watching the world slowly pass her by. But she decides that the kids at school should know who she is, and – maybe it's the alcohol – but she's not scared at all to show them. For so long, she's struggled not to disappoint people around her, but, despite her attempts, those people are still leaving her behind now. Even when she's done nothing wrong.

She strained herself, defeated herself, _crushed _herself for people that are still leaving her, and it's time she stops trying to be who everyone else wants her to be. If Fiona's learned anything from relationship with other humans, it's not to change for people who are going to leave regardless of who you become trying to make them stay.

Fiona Coyne is an unlovable, pathetic alcoholic that can't be cured. And for too long now, she's been going along with the beliefs that she _can_ be, that someday her life will be perfect. But she's through waiting for something that she's positive is never going to come. The only reason she held onto that hope was for these people, and even then, it was never really hope – it was simply a way to keep herself tied to them.

So, she's done trying to impersonate a girl that she will never be. A girl that she never was.

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She's not quite sure how she has gotten past the security without the alcohol in the plastic water bottle being detected. Then again, she wouldn't have cared much if it had been. The staff and teachers deserve to know who she really is, too. She's made the decision that she won't pretend anymore, and the more people she is able to tell the truth to, the more weight will be lifted from her shoulders.

Holly J. waves to her, but she doesn't wave back. She doesn't pretend for this girl anymore. Instead, she brings the vodka up to her lips and lets it trickle over her tongue and down her throat, leaving a burning sensation in her mouth.

Her limbs feel weak, and her vision is tinted, slightly blurry around the edges. She feels like she's walking at a slant. And, before she can realize what is happening, she hits someone hard, their bodies clashing out of nowhere. Fiona is so dizzy she can barely make out she dark-haired boy who has just let out a mangled _umph. _But she recognizes his dark, now startled eyes.

"Fiona?" Eli Goldsworthy is staring at Fiona with worried, confused eyes, his hands still holding her shoulders where they shot to automatically at the unexpected contact. He narrows his eyes, glaring into hers, and suddenly everything about his expression goes from confusion to suspicion to shock in a fraction of a second. "Are you _drunk_?" He gasps, his voice accusing her more than anything else.

"Yes," she mutters, and her voice sounds a bit giggly, despite how she wants to make this serious. She wants Eli to know the girl she really is.

"Fiona . . . why would you . . . ?" Despite his struggle for words, Fiona knows exactly what he means. Because she's heard it all before. She knows what this kind of disappointment sounds like; only, this time, she doesn't feel guilty for it. The tone of Eli's voice doesn't hurt her like it used to when her _friends _used it.

_How could the perfect, innocent Fiona Coyne ever become addicted to alcohol? How could she ever suffer relapse after relapse when she was supposed to be better?_

It was actually quite easy. Because Fiona Coyne isn't the girl everyone sees. She's not someone who can bounce right back up and erase mistakes that should ruin someone's life. She's not someone who can be that perfect friend or lover or whatever you needed of her.

In fact, Fiona Coyne is much worse than just _typical. _Because, besides being a pretender, an impersonator, a _fake_, Fiona Coyne is nothing. She's finally accepted it.

"I'm done with this," she mutters, attempting to continue forward, but Eli steps in front of her, his eyes glancing nervously around to make sure that no one has noticed her.

"Done with what?" He asks calmly, as if he thinks she isn't in the right mind.

"Pretending," she hisses icily, "Pretending things will get better, pretending that I'm in a good place . . . pretending I'm someone I'm not."

Eli's hand on her shoulder starts to guide her towards the doors as his other one slowly wraps around the bottle. "Fiona, you need to come with me."

"No," she snaps, snatching her hand away, "I have to show everyone. I have to end this."

Eli keeps a firm grip on the vodka, not allowing her to pry it free. "Fiona, you're drunk – you're not thinking straight."

And maybe she isn't. Maybe she _should_ listen to Eli. Except that that is what the fake Fiona Coyne would do. That is the right choice the girl she's tried to be would make. But she's done playing that role.

"You can't tell me what to do," she snarls. But Eli is already prying her by her wrists towards the doors outside, and when they finally emerge, the cool air caresses Fiona's clammy cheeks.

"That's exactly what you need," Eli insists, guiding her to a bench.

"I'm done . . . I'm done," she's muttering wildly now, and she can hear how out of control she sounds. But maybe she never had anything under control to begin with.

"You told me what I needed to hear when I wouldn't listen," Eli says firmly, "Like it or not, I'm going to do the same for you."

"You don't understand at all," she nearly screams, bolting off the seat, but her heels tangle, her limbs weak and unreliable, and she slips.

Eli catches her, his arms gripping her around the waist as he pulls her up, and, even through the alcohol, she blushes a bit. "You really think I don't get it?" He asks, his eyes dark and serious yet soft at the same time.

Fiona lets out a ragged breath.

"I've had my heart broken too, Fiona. And I've truly, _honestly _believed things that were completely untrue." Eli's eyes are glimmering with tears, and Fiona has never realized how much this has all truly impacted him. For a moment, everything falters, because Fiona can only think one thing.

_ Why does someone care this much about me?_

"Fiona, I let my mind trick me into believing things that _killed _me inside. And I hurt everyone around me, trying to do what I thought had to be done. Everyone tried to tell me that it was wrong, but I didn't listen . . . I didn't listen until all the damage was done. And some of that damage I've yet to be able to repair; I'm not sure I ever will.

"Fi, you have to chance to listen before this starts."

She feels his hand slowly form around her fingers, wrapped around the bottle, gently prying them off one by one. "You're stronger than this, Fiona," he breathes.

_Eli's hands are shaking, his eyes wild and almost black as he clutches the lighter in his fingers. "You'll never understand, Fiona!"_

_ "You're not thinking clearly," she insists. But the boy isn't listening; he's so utterly lost, so honestly engraved in these thoughts. He can't see the truth._

_ "I have to do this," he chokes out._

_ "You're stronger than this, Eli." Fiona's hand reaches for the lighter, her fingers wrapping over his, gently trying to pry it from his clutch . . ._

_ But he snatches his hand away, disabling her to lead him away from all the mistakes she knows are in his horizon. But he hasn't listened to her._

Fiona takes a deep breath and lets Eli guide her away. Her fingers slide willingly off the bottle as she allows Eli to take it away.

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** Hopefully, you all saw what I did there.**

** Love this friendship.**

** Finale . . . All I can say is freakin phenomenal acting from Luke, Jordy, and, especially, Alicia. I loved the fact that the shooting was only one highlight, Bianca's attempt to end everything being the other.**

** Let me know what you thought of this and the finale, too, if you'd like. **

**~emerald1198 **


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